Maelstrom
by LaraWinner
Summary: Duo asks a question, can you answer it?


DISCLAIMER: I don't own gundam wing or any of its characters. I don't even own my car so don't sue me*_*

# Maelstrom

**BY: **Lara_Winner

I have a question. 

What is life?

Should be a simple question right?

Most people would say life is what you make of it. Others would say it's a precious gift. I'm the God of Death, I say life is nothing but a small part in an endless cycle. I guess most people don't realize that how they live their life is how they define it. A shame Death has nothing to define. 

I bet you're surprised I'm being philosophical. Don't lie, I can see the confusion on you're face. You're waiting for me to tell jokes and start acting stupid. If you think that's all there is to me then you don't know me. I'm not surprised though. Plenty people see me as a silly, immature teenager. Like I said, you don't know me.

So I'll ask you again. What is life? Do you know? Do you care? Do you even think about it? I never did till the first time I took a life. Little old me had the power to destroy something so precious and wonderful. It can't be all that wonderful if it's so easy to destroy.

Have you ever killed someone? Did you ever have to look into their eyes and watch as they took their last breath? It's not something you ever forget. Its almost like dropping a glass and watching it break. You know that moment right before the glass shatters, that moment when you hold your breath in anticipation and disappointment. You want to stop it yet you're fascinated by it all the same. That's what it feels like.

A lot of things in life feel that way don't they? Something you regret only when it's to late. The things you can't change make you powerless and make you question your purpose. The things you can control give you a head rush. That's why I call myself the God of Death. It's not to be funny and not to make a statement. I'm not crazy either. It's my purpose in life, to be the plague that feeds off chaos and destruction. To be the one to break the fragile glass of life.

Don't get me wrong, I don't like what I do. But I'm good at what I do. I'm efficient at what I do. It's in my blood to be the hunter, the killer. That is my life, to take life. The irony of it does not escape me. I actually find it rather amusing. I mean really, at any moment I could die and my pitiful existence would be over. Who's stopping you from taking my life? I am no better than anyone else and yet no stronger, no less human. Anyone can kill and anyone can live but some do it better than others. 

I suppose I'm technically alive. I am breathing after all. But to live and to exist are two very separate things. Life is meant to be lived, death is meant to exist. I exist; with out a doubt I only exist. Bet you're thinking that I'm the most alive out of everyone, huh? Fooled ya! Just because you smile doesn't mean you're happy. Sure, I know how to laugh and I know how to cry. I know how to do a lot of things. Does it mean that I'm living? No.

Have you ever told someone you miss them and really didn't mean it? That's kind of what this is like. I smile but I've never been happy. I cry but I've never been sad. To live is to feel and relate and connect with the moment and the place and the people around you. I've never done that. I've gone through the motions but I've never felt anything. It's like watching the world through glass. That very same glass that is so fragile when I break it in others is as strong as gundanium as it confines me.

But every now and then it cracks a little and I feel the faintest stirrings of something. I don't have a soul but what ever I have that is my comparison to it gets to breath a little for only a moment. I remember the first time I felt. I was looking in the brightest pair of blue eyes I'd ever seen. They belonged to her. You know Hilde, the short girl I live with. I thought so. Well she was the first one to ever crack my glass cage. 

That's what I don't understand. When I think of life I think of her because she is the most alive person I know. But she said something to me the other day that made me think. She said she envied me because I know how to live. Death doesn't live. Death doesn't have a life. My cage confines me too much. Yet she had cracked it once. 

So this brings me back to my original question. What is life? How come the life in me suffocates me? Why do I exist and yet still have a life? I suppose it is possible for me to live. Maybe I do feel. For so long I've looked to others and destroyed in them what I myself was missing. I've even destroyed the ones I never wanted to hurt. That's what the events of my cursed life have led to. So am I the God of Death or do I have the ability to be more? Or less?

I have a question.

What is life? 

A.N.- Just a little something to make you think! *_*


End file.
